Chapter Seven
There was tired, and then there was tired. Guess which one best described me this morning?
As my alarm clock blinked to 6:56 a.m., I pulled a knitted green beanie over my ears. My snug long-sleeved shirt was hidden under a breathable sweater with an athletic wear company’s logo on the front, and my tight leggings would barely insulate my legs against the morning cold.
Stifling a yawn, I picked up my shoes. The third-floor hall was quiet and I figured Aaron was already warming up. My ability to run for more than two minutes was a work in progress, but progress was happening. I reminded myself of that as I stumped reluctantly down the stairs.
Normally I worked out with Aaron and Kai, but Kai had different plans today—he was meeting with some alumni friends for a special electramage training exercise. This morning’s run would be just me and Aaron, and I was looking forward to it. The guys did almost everything together, so one-on-one time with any of them was rare—plus, based on Aaron’s itinerary, I wouldn’t be seeing much of him for the rest of the week.
The footman appeared in the vestibule as I walked in.
“Hey, it’s Brett, right?” I asked as I pulled on my runners. “Don’t you get time off?”
He grinned. “Dominic does the afternoon-evening shift, and I do the early one.”
“So you’re up at this time every morning? Ouch.” I waved cheerfully as I passed him. “We’ll be back in an hour, so catch a snooze while we’re gone.”
Chuckling, he disappeared through the side door into the coat room or whatever was back there. I pushed the front door open and walked out onto the steps. I was right that Aaron would already be out here and warming up.
But he, uh … he wasn’t alone.
At least a dozen men and women around his age were doing warm-up stretches in the driveway, all dressed to run. They chatted casually, perky and energetic like proper morning people. I stood on the top step, my confusion shifting to alarm. I was nowhere near fit enough to run with these super-athletic mages.
Aaron, bent in a hamstring stretch between two beautiful women, spotted me. Laughing at something one of the women had said, he broke away and jogged up the steps.
“Hey Tori,” he said airily. “I know we were going to run this morning, but I didn’t realize they already had one planned.”
“Oh,” I said after a beat of silence.
“You’re welcome to come along, but we go pretty hard. It’d be tough for you.”
Aaron’s voice was carrying through the still, cold morning air as clearly as if he were using a bullhorn. Listening in on every word, the super-mages scanned me like I was a geriatric grandma with a walker who’d just limped onto a football field.
“It’ll be tough for you, Sinclair,” someone called. “You’ve gone soft at your city guild.”
“Like hell I have!” Aaron shouted back, an edge of challenge in his grin and a competitive fire in his eyes. He was down the steps in three hops, then he turned, walking backward as he said, “Why don’t you take a day off, Tori? You were wanting a break.”
I opened my mouth, but he didn’t wait for my response. He trotted to the front of the group, bantering with a hulking blond guy four inches taller than him. The two men broke into a loping jog down the driveway. As the others fell in after them, passing the steps where I stood, I spotted the three nasty alumni who’d insulted Aaron yesterday.
He was ditching me to run with them? Didn’t he know what they thought of him?
The alumni group vanished around the curving drive. I stood alone on the steps, dressed to run but with nowhere to go. Drawing in a breath of chilly air, I peered around, wondering if I should jog on my own … around grounds I didn’t know … with only my thoughts for company.
Yeah, screw that.
Shoulders drooping, I walked back inside. Brett must’ve taken my advice because he didn’t appear. I hastened up to the third floor, only remembering that I was still wearing my running shoes when I tripped on the last step. Swearing, I kicked my shoes off, picked them up, and hurried to my room.
As I grabbed the handle, the next door down opened. Ezra appeared, wearing a rumpled t-shirt and boxers. “Tori?”
“Sorry,” I said hastily. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”
The early morning sun highlighted every haggard line of his face, confirming his need for more rest—way more rest. The circles under his eyes were darker than yesterday, dashing my hopes that he’d gotten some sleep after our talk last night.
He rubbed his face, then squinted at me with more focus. “Aren’t you running this morning?”
With anyone else, I would’ve made up an excuse rather than admit I’d been ditched, but Ezra wasn’t anyone else. “Aaron decided to run with the alumni instead.”
In an instant, Ezra was fully awake—and uncharacteristic anger darkened his features. “Okay. Just give me a minute.”
He disappeared into his room while I blinked dumbly.
“A minute for what?” I asked, walking to his open door. As I stuck my head in, he pulled the same hoodie from last night over his t-shirt, then rustled in his suitcase for a toque like mine, but blue. He’d already donned a pair of black sweatpants.
I finally clued in. My sleep-deprived brain was not performing at its best this morning.
“No, Ezra!” I exclaimed. “It’s fine. You’re exhausted. You need to—”
“I’m good.” He flashed me a grin as he tugged his socks on. “I haven’t gone on a run in a while. It’ll be good for me.”
“But—”
Catching me with one arm, he drew me out the door. “Let’s go for a run, Tori.”
“But—”
Arm around my waist, he leaned down, almost bumping our foreheads together. “You can’t talk me out of it.”
No, I could not. Not when the sudden closeness of his face had imploded my thoughts.
Back out in the crisp December air, we did a round of stretches, then we were off. Ezra led the way, following a groomed gravel path into the sweeping lawns behind the manor. We’d never run together before, but it was easy; he slowed to a walk whenever I started gasping too pathetically, and his warm encouragements were a nice change from Kai’s barked commands.
I loved Kai, but he was one hell of a hard-ass.
That wasn’t to say Ezra let me off easy. Whenever I was certain I couldn’t run anymore, he’d call me on, cajoling me into that extra fifty feet before I slowed. We made a wide circle around the academy buildings, and by the time we’d reached the manor’s sprawling back lawn again, I was spent.
Steps dragging and chest heaving, I groaned pathetically. “You might be worse than Kai.”
“Me?” he asked, all innocence.
I decided not to explain how I couldn’t let him down when he had so much faith that I could keep up—and as a result, I was trying hard not to puke on the grass.
“Next time,” he said, bending his arm behind his head in a stretch as we walked, “we won’t go so easy.”
“Easy?” I spluttered, aghast. “That was the toughest run I’ve done yet!”